


because, not in spite of

by AudreyV



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Consensual Kink, Conversations, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, Fantasizing, Happy Ending, Intimacy, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Kissing, Lesbian Character, Rape Fantasy, Romance, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Taboo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyV/pseuds/AudreyV
Summary: “Patricia, you are a goddess of a woman who just managed to say “rapey stuff” without it sounding judgmental.”

 
  “We all have weird shit that turns us on. Yours is different from mine.” Patty shrugged. “Doesn't mean it's bad.”
 
--
A break-in leads to an intimate conversation between Holtzmann and Patty about fantasies and boundaries.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the person on Tumblr who left me a note about how they like how I handle the dark/controversial stuff. I've had this story mostly finished for weeks, but I wasn't so sure that "rape fantasy" would go over okay in this fandom. But Tumblr friend, you've made me brave.
> 
> Unlike my dubcon fic, which was about the uncomfortable emotional fallout a decision can have, this fic is pretty much a love story. There's explicit discussion about some pretty taboo fantasies, but that conversation can only exist because these two dorks care so deeply about each other. 
> 
> FYI there's a bit of racially insensitive joking between Holtz and Patty that didn't strike me as being too out-of-bounds, but that the lovely PieHeda pointed out could be iffy for some people. So heads up.

“So. Is that something that happens a lot?” Patty fixed a stern gaze on Holtzmann, who was suddenly fascinated by the rip in the hem of her oversized t-shirt. She worried it for a moment before reluctantly bringing her gaze back up. 

“I can tell by that thing your eye is doing that you're displeased.” Holtz said carefully. “Bright side—I took your advice to focus in on small details when I have difficulty interpreting emotions. So… there's that?”

“Baby, do you really need to see that I'm doing the eye thing to know that I don’t like strange women busting in here in the middle of the night?” Patty’s eyes narrowed. “Cause if so we got bigger problems than you not understanding nuance.”

“No. I was just hoping I could distract you from asking more questions.” Holtz grimaced. She idly kicked at a large spring that was on the floor of her bedroom. “So… is there a way I can distract you from asking more questions? Because I’d like to.”

“Where's this going, Holtzy?” Patty softened. “You can tell me anything, you know that? And yes I may get loud and I might even get angry, but you know me. Flash, bang, then I'm over it, and even while it's happening it isn't YOU. I mean, when you set my desk on fire, then it was you, being honest, you know.”

When Holtzmann didn’t immediately respond, Patty turned back to the open window. If she was going to keep sleeping at the inventor’s cluttered little apartment, they’d need to buy a lock for it. Immediately. 

Patty gazed out the window at the city she loved, taking in its rows of brownstones and converted factories that all sparkled with lights of varying hues. Some of those were probably reading lamps. Maybe some night lights. The extra bright ones could be insomniac artists, manically finishing wall-sized pieces under floods of daylight-balanced bulbs. 

Patty wondered if any other lamp was illuminating a conversation as odd and uncomfortable as theirs as she worked herself up to ask what she needed to ask.

“Is she your side chick?” Patty asked finally, still looking at all those lights. 

“No!” Holtz was so emphatic, Patty felt herself starting to relax, but then another thought occurred to her. 

“Am I?” 

“Fuck no. You are the appetizer, main course and dessert. Nothing on the side.” Holtz sighed. “Do over. Ask me again?”

“Do women break into your bedroom all the time or is tonight special?”

“Quite rare. And not women, just Thora. And since she knows we’re— you and I are…. Uh.” Holtzmann grabbed her yellow goggles from the nightstand and put them on. “You sleep here sometimes. Now that she knows that, she won't do it again. Unless you… stop sleeping here. Like for good. And then who knows. But I’d have to tell her she could start doing it again.”

“Okay.” Patty settled herself on the bed. “So Thora sometimes breaks into your apartment.”

“Awesome, I was worried you wouldn't understand,” Holtz said as she stretched to pull a can of Pringles from a tall shelf. She offered them to Patty, who shook her head. After a moment’s thought, the chips sailed back toward the closet, unopened.

“I'm not sure I DO understand, Holtzy.” Patty blinked, taking a few moments to organize her thoughts. “So you used to date that crazy chick?”

“Date is a very strong word. From April of 2009 until January of 2010 I had sex with her on a regular basis. From June of 2010 on, infrequent sex.” Holtz drifted back to the bed and settled stiffly on her side. “And not at all since you and I… you know.”

“I appreciate you making that clear.”

“Okay, then we’re good,” Holtz said. She reached to turn out the light, but Patty stopped her hand.

“Uh uh. Next you tell me why she showed up in our— your bedroom with a bag full of serial killer shit.”

“Because she was going to tie me up, hurt me a little and then fuck me.” Holtzmann replied casually, as if they were discussing where to go for lunch or if her newest invention was of the small or medium-poof variety. “Obviously she was not expecting to pounce on a beautiful, tall, chocolate Amazon by mistake,” she added with a bright smile. 

“Okay, so I’ll give you a pass on the chocolate thing, but for the future, that's just lazy metaphors.” Patty rolled her eyes. “Black people aren't all chocolate just because our skin is dark.”

“I know that. You're chocolate because eating you will definitely make me feel better, even on the worst day,” Holtz explained with a saucy wink.

Patty couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You're sweet, Holtzy.”

“No, if you're the chocolate that means you—”

“I get it. So,” Patty began carefully. She wondered if they should have this conversation somewhere less inherently sexual than the bed. Unfortunately the chances of finding any piece of furniture or countertop to sit on that wasn't covered in gears, blueprints and scrap metal were slim, so it would have to do. She sat up with her back against the wall and gestured to Holtzmann to do the same. Once the inventor was settled, Patty forged ahead. 

“You're into that?” Patty asked, carefully keeping her voice neutral.

“What? Sorry, I was stuck on that eating you bit.”

“Sometimes I can't tell if you're trying to get me to drop shit or if you’re really this easily distracted. Either way, stay with me here and I’ll make it as quick and painless as possible. Unless you'd prefer otherwise.” When Holtzmann didn't shoot back a quip or innuendo, Patty could tell she was uncomfortable, so extended her hand so the other woman could grasp it. “So… are you into that?”

“Uh, yeah?” Holtz mumbled. She threaded her fingers through Patty’s but kept her eyes focused on the wall. “Pretty obvious, given… tonight.” 

“Okay. Is that something you would want to do with me?” Patty asked. 

“But… Patty you're…” Holtz huffed. Her forehead wrinkled as she searched for the right words. “That's not something you do with women you— women who… matter.”

“So you have the nasty hookups with chicks you don't give a shit about and with the ones you actually like, you keep it sweet?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Patty asked.

“I dunno,” Holtz said. When Patty didn’t reply, she continued, forcing the words out. “Maybe it's easier to ask a woman to fuck me like I don't want her to if what she thinks of me doesn’t matter.”

“So this is a little more intense than just a few silk scarves and a 50 shades of grey logo blindfold, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Holtz nodded. “But could you— can you just not look at me like I'm weird?”

“How are you gonna know how I’m looking at you if you’re too busy staring a hole through that wall?” Patty waited until Holtzmann wrenched her gaze away and slowly brought her eyes up to meet Patty’s. “Baby, I know you're weird. You're weird as fuck. And I love it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Holtz mumbled, almost to herself, her eyes dropping to the mattress where their hands were intertwined “Explain.”

“Okay, believe it or not, Patty Tolan who worked at the MTA and read a hundred books a year didn’t take a lot of risks,” Patty said. “I had a good routine going, regular job, a hobby I liked, I had my family… but I didn’t have many friends and I definitely did not have adventures.” She was pleased when Holtzmann looked up at her, eyes shining. “You’re an adventure. And you make me want to broaden my horizons and try new things. Like rock climbing.”

“And calamari,” Holtz remembered with a smile. “I couldn’t believe that you’d never had calamari.”

“And I never need to have it again,” Patty said. When she saw Holtzmann’s face fall, she continued quickly. “But that’s great, you know? Now I’ve had that experience and I know I didn’t like it. Before I was just making assumptions.”

“Ah, experimentation over assumptions.” Holtz started to nod, but then shook her head. “I think I need you to draw me a line between calamari and rough sex, because I’m not seeing it.”

“I tried calamari because you like it,” Patty replied. “And I’m open to talking about trying whatever you’re into in bed.”

“You'd do that for me?”

“Of course. And for me, because I like new experiences and I like making you come. So it's a win-win.” Patty held out her arms and Holtzmann happily snuggled into them. Patty rested her chin on the blonde’s head and enjoyed the feel of her warm, still-slightly-wiggly body. “And maybe I won’t like it, which has to be okay too. And we definitely need to work up to this cat burglar shit. That’s like varsity level.”

“So I should start you off at Little League?” Holtz nodded seriously. “So… what counts as Little League?”

“Like… let’s talk through it. Tell me what about this turns you on.”

“Okay.” Holtz shifted in Patty’s arms. “Do you mean now? Or another time. I’m good with now, but if you’re tired—” 

“I'm wide awake,” Patty said. She tried and failed to keep from grinning. “Happens when out of nowhere some fierce little Latina femme lands her whole buck-fifteen body on top of me.” 

“Does it make it any better if I tell you she was definitely more scared of you than you were of her?” Holtzmann asked.

“It's cute that you think I don't know that.” Patty kissed the side of Holtz’s neck gently. “So tell me about it.”

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“So start at the beginning.”

“Okay. I’m asleep or maybe reading in bed,” Holtz began. Her words were stilted and staccato, like they got when she was saying something hard but important. “I’m not paying attention. Then someone grabs me. I try to get away but they're too fast— wait, holy shit, you're actually stronger than me.” She looked at Patty with an expression of surprised delight, eyes wide. 

“Uh…. Yeah?”

“No, it’s— Thora had to be fast. And even then I could have gotten away from her, easily,” Holtzmann said. “But you could actually hold me down. Excellent.”

Patty was not expecting those words to turn her on at all. But if someone had asked her three months earlier if she’d be falling for a teeny, terrifyingly brilliant mad scientist, she would have told them they were crazy. (If they’d gone on to tell her that the same pint-sized, blonde-haired, blue-eyed white girl was the best lay she’d ever had, literally ever, she would have laughed in their face.) But there was something about the way Holtz’s teeth pressed into her lower lip and the spark in her eyes that was undeniably making Patty so fucking hot for her. 

“Anyway, tussle tussle, struggle, helplessness, etc. From there, two options, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene.” Holtz held up one finger as if she were back in the lecture hall, trying to teach clueless first years about physics. “Option one, talking. ‘I won't hurt you if you’re a good girl and do what I say.’”

Patty heard Holtz’s voice winding up, like she was discussing a new prototype or recounting a particularly intense bust. Suddenly the blonde shifted them so Patty was flat on her back. In another second, Holtzmann was straddling Patty’s hips, leaning down to study her carefully, all traces of embarrassment gone from her face.

“I try my best to be a very good girl,” Holtz continued, her face dipping closer and closer. Her voice was low, husky, and she maintained their eye contact with an intensity that sent jolts down Patty’s spine. “Go down on you, get you off, let you do whatever you want to me. Maybe it’s a little rough, maybe not, because really the struggle is up here,” she said, pointing to her temple. “I try to fight it but you make me come and I'm ashamed of how fucking awesome it feels. How much I like it when you make me do things.”

Patty listened and observed, slowly coming to several realizations. One, her new favorite thing was Holtzmann gleefully describing her fantasies. Two, she was definitely telling the truth when she told Holtzmann she’d try anything. 

Patty wasn’t particularly kinky. She’d tried to read 50 Shades of Grey when everyone was losing their shit over it, and less than three chapters in she’d tossed it away in disgust. (She didn’t actually throw it away, because Patty didn’t do that to ANY book, even a book that offended every one of her sensibilities as a feminist and a lover of literature. But she did donate it to the thrift shop on 11th street, where she imagined it ending up on a shelf with a dozen other forlorn copies, also abandoned by discerning readers.) 

She’d never been into rough sex or S&M or any of that, and she couldn’t say she’d be into it now, but she was definitely into Holtzy leaning over her, flushed and pupils blown, talking about what turned her on. Patty was a little nervous, but she’d survived countless adventures with her eccentric, incredible lover. The only casualties to date were half an eyebrow (from the desk incident, and it grew back) and one of her favorite pairs of shoes (which Holtz replaced within a month thanks to eBay.)

This could be more risky than one of the inventor’s medium-poof creations, but if this was where her Holtzy wanted to go, she’d do it. Not tonight, but she’d do her research and figure things out for the future. Patty made a mental note to spend some time thinking about why she was so willing to follow Holtzmann into the unknown. 

She conjured up an image of Holtz with her hands tied to the headboard to see if it was something that turned her on, but the idea burst and scattered when she felt the blonde tremble. It was the tiniest movement, one she might not have noticed if they weren’t practically nose-to-nose. 

“You’re vibrating,” Patty said gently. A thought clattered in her brain as she put her hands on Holtz’s sides to steady her. “Baby… is there a reason this particular thing turns you on?”

“Nobody hurt me,” Holtz said quickly. She studied Patty’s face. “That’s what you were asking, right?”

“Yeah,” Patty replied, a little puzzled and a little impressed. “That was really intuitive of you.”

“Well, it's not the first time someone's asked.” Holtz shrugged and covered Patty’s hands with her own. “People figure it's gotta come from somewhere. I mean, it does, but it's nothing like that.”

“What is it?” Patty asked.

“I'd rather not get into it at the moment. But be assured, I'm a superhero with no tragic backstory,” Holtz declared, puffing out her chest and moving her hands to her hips to briefly strike a heroic pose, before relaxing and letting her hands drop to her sides.

“That's fair,” Patty agreed. “So… you said there were two options? Talking and?”

“Not talking.” Holtzmann’s tongue darted out and ran along the bottom of her upper lip. She was quiet for several moments before she went on. “No bargaining, no promising not to hurt. Brute force. Crying, begging, pleading. Maybe you almost let me get away but catch me at the last moment. Play with me like a cat with a mouse. Bite, pinch, smack. Shove me down on the bed or the floor, tie me up so I can't move, hold me down and fuck me however you want to. Tell me how much you love fucking me while I struggle. Maybe I come, maybe I don't, it doesn't matter to you. Leave me covered in handprints and bruises.”

Patty sat in silence for a few moments, processing. When she felt Holtz shift uncomfortably, she slid her hands up and pulled the blonde down for a quick kiss. 

“I'm not judging baby. Just thinking.”

“About what?” Holtz asked.

“First of all, I'm real glad you already told me nobody hurt you.”

“Some people who… like this sort of thing… that’s where it comes from.” Holtz’s eyes flicked back to Patty’s face. “But definitely not me.”

“A fact I am grateful for. The thought of anyone hurting you, ever, really sets me off.” Patty breathed deeply and contemplated how best to say what she wanted to say. “That’s why I'm having a hard time with this. Half an hour ago, if you’d asked me if I would ever put a mark on that lovely body of yours, I would have said hell no.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Holtz shifted to move off Patty, but Patty’s hands went to her hips and stopped her.

“Nuance, baby. I'm saying I'm thinking about it, which is not a place I ever thought I'd be. That’s why it's taking me a minute.”

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Holtz relaxed. “Thank you for the clarity. I wish I could just jack into your brain. Way easier.”

“Well, until people are robots, that won't be happening.” Patty ran her hand through Holtzmann’s wild, curly hair. “But you can ask me whatever you want to know and I’ll answer as best I can.”

“Excellent.” Holtzmann took one of Patty’s hands and guided it up under her shirt. 

“That is not a question, Holtzy.” The historian shook her head, but her voice was warm with amusement. She let her fingertips rake across one of Holtz’s nipples. 

“Here’s a question,” Holtz managed through a sharp intake of breath. “How turned on are you right now?”

“Way more than I thought I'd be.” 

“Because you’ve got a handful of tit? Or because of what I said?”

“I mean, this isn’t bad,” Patty shot back, gently worrying the silver bar that pierced Holtz’s nipple. “But yeah. You talking about that was a turn on.” 

“Just what I wanted to hear.”

Patty waited for more questions but Holtz just grinned and shifted her hips. The blonde’s hands slipped under Patty’s shirt.

“Whoa, still talking time. I’ve got some questions too,” Patty said.

“Oh, yeah, okay.” Holtz pulled away. She looked for a place to put her now-idle hands before folding them primly on Patty’s abdomen. “Sorry, I should have offered.”

“If I need something and you don't offer, I ask. Totally fine.” Patty said. “It sounds like you've got a few things going on… I think for me it would be best if we tackled them one at a time at first. Like, you like being submissive, so we turn that up, but keep the rapey stuff turned down.” 

“Patricia, you are a goddess of a woman who just managed to say “rapey stuff” without it sounding judgmental.”

“We all have weird shit that turns us on. Yours is different from mine.” Patty shrugged. “Doesn't mean it's bad.”

“What's yours?” Holtzmann asked, eyes flashing with interest. “Tickling? Watersports? Civil war role play?”

“Holtz! That is so inappropriate.”

“Yes! But that's part of what's fun.” Holtz’s hands wandered again, caressing different parts of Patty’s torso. 

“I know you’re joking,” Patty said firmly. She caught both of Holtzmann’s wrists and held them for a moment. “But I don't want to pretend to be anybody's slave, baby.”

“Oh, no, that’s—sorry, I forget you're not in my head. I mean, sure, I'd whip you if you really really wanted me to, but it wouldn't get me wet. However…” Holtz tapped her teeth with her index finger as she chose her words. “Imagine what someone in that situation might do if they lucked into some private time with the lady of the house. I expect years of minor cruelties would have earned her quite the punishment.”

“Are you actually getting turned on thinking about me beating your ass as payback for slavery?” Patty asked, raising an eyebrow at the blonde, who blushed. 

“Sort of. Totally socially inappropriate?”

“Just don't tell anyone outside of this room. Someone who doesn't know you as well as I do would probably beat your ass for real,” Patty said.

“Luckily I don't go around sharing my deviant sexual fantasies with everyone.” Holtzmann stretched out on top of Patty. “Or anybody but you, really.” Holtz kissed Patty slowly, then tucked her face into the crook of the historian’s neck. “But I do really want to know what you like. Whenever you feel like sharing. Because I want to do those things.”

“You're sweet, you know that?”

“You can call me white chocolate.” Holtz lifted her head and waited for Patty to raise an eyebrow at her before she went for the punchline. “After all, I'm weird, I go down real smooth and some people inexplicably can't get enough of me.”

“You're such a dork.” Patty smiled. “Okay. This is gonna sound silly, but… man, it’s so trite. I like romance. Feeling feminine, beautiful. Being courted turns me on. I’m a big woman, so most people don't look at me like someone who can be delicate. But in my fantasies? Delicate as fuck.” Patty glanced up and saw Holtz staring intently at her. “Oh I don't like that look, Holtzy.”

“Describe the conventions that make you feel especially feminine,” Holtzmann instructed, the corners of her lips twitching as she tried to maintain a neutral expression. “How does one ‘court’?”

“Oh hell no, this ain't some nuclear reactor that you can take apart, mostly figure out, put back together and hope you don't blow the place up.”

“On the contrary,” Holtz said, lips against Patty’s neck just below her ear. “I want nothing more than to blow this up.” She slid her hand down Patty’s side, then up under her tank top. Calloused fingertips traced what Patty suspected was incomprehensible math on the curve of her waist. “Thank you for not thinking I'm a freak,” Holtz added quietly. 

“Baby, you're a freak. And I love you because of that, not in spite of it.” Patty was surprised at how easily the words came out of her mouth, and how natural it felt to say them. “I love you because you’re a freak and a weirdo and probably the reason the earth is going to explode one day and so completely you.” 

Patty watched as Holtzmann’s dynamic, occasionally-cartoonish face relaxed into a wide-eyed, gentle expanse of delight. Her cheeks went pink and she blinked several times as if she thought Patty might be an illusion. 

“Yep,” she said finally, even though Patty hadn’t asked a question. “That thing you just said. That. Yes.” She waved her hand in front of her chest, then pressed her lips together tightly and turned her eyes up to the ceiling. 

“What’s the matter, Holtzy?” Patty asked.

“I’m leaking,” the blonde mumbled. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You know that, right?” she added in a voice so low Patty had to strain to hear her.

“Come here.” She pulled Holtz into a slow kiss. Patty felt the tension drop out of the blonde’s body, then a moment later Holtz was coaxing her mouth open, flicking out her tongue, skillfully turning a sweet kiss into a eager one. 

“Would you be up for—“ Holtz stopped abruptly when Patty plunged a hand into her tangled curls and made a loose fist. “I’ll take that as an enthusiastic yes,” she stuttered out as Patty tugged her hair, gently at first, then firmer. “Fuck. Bring it on, baby.”

“Remember we’re not even at Little League yet.” Patty nipped at the pale skin just below Holtz’s ear. “This is like, batting practice. At T-ball.” 

“T-ball! Batting practice. Sporting metaphors. Yes. That. That that that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the inspiration for this was a specific and pretty lighthearted "why" for Holtzmann's fantasy... which I didn't manage to work into the final fic. So it's up to y'all to use your imagination I guess, unless enough inspiration hits me to compel a second chapter or a sequel. ;)


End file.
